The Evil One
by Shannon Holmes
Summary: Well, tests are over....now I have.......WRITER'S BLOCK!!!! AH! I am trying though I promise. Sherlock Holmes meets his great granddaughter. Just an intro. please R & R so I can know wether or not to write more.
1. Help in the Darkness

****Authour's note: I do not own any of these people. I sorta own Shannon Holmes, because she is slightly based on my but written more by my best friend Michelle Smith. Go and read her thingies (stories).****  
  
  
  
  
  
The Evil One  
  
  
  
It was hard, even for me to comprehend, but Holmes did and in that terrible instant we both knew what was going to happen. There was a loud bang, the sound of a bullet hitting bone and then the thud of a body hitting the ground. I rushed to his side, pressing a handkerchief to the wound.  
  
"It will be alright Holmes I promise," I said knowing that I was telling a lie.  
  
"You have never broken a promise to me yet, why should you start now?" he asked drawing feeble breathes between every word.  
  
"We mustn't loose hope dear fellow, there is always a chance that you might-"  
  
"Watson please, I know that I am going to die," he smiled up at me. "You have always been a good friend. You once said of me that I was the best and wisest man you had ever known, I now say that of you. You have always stood by my side even though there was many a time I did not deserve it."  
  
"Now, Holmes-"  
  
"Please, just listen to me, thank you Watson, John, thank you for being my one and only true friend." His eyes closed, his breathing coming more and more shallow.  
  
I propped him up and leaned his body against my chest, holding the blood soaked handkerchief tight to his chest and praying for his survival.  
  
I do not know how long I sat there praying that he would live, hoping that someone would come along and be able to save him, but eventually I heard the sound of footsteps. Someone was running toward us. I tightened onto Holmes, causing him to issue a groan of pain. Hearing him make a sound was somewhat relieving to me. I knew then that he was still alive and that he was trying to live. I knew that he had already lived longer than most.  
  
The footsteps stopped; "Hello?"  
  
It was a woman; I almost called out to her but decided against it and waited in silence.  
  
"Dr. Watson? Please answer me I am here to help you. You do not know who I am but I promise you that I can help Mr. Holmes."  
  
Without thinking I replied, "over here. Follow the sound of my voice. If you can help please hurry he is nearly gone."  
  
A few moments later, a woman appeared out of the fog, once she had spotted us she ran over.  
  
"Oh! I am so glad that I found you." Kneeling down she gently laid her fingers on the side of Holmes's throat, taking his pulse.  
  
"He is still alive," she said. "Barely. Please lay him down flat on his back."  
  
"He needs to stay propped up," I answered in a somewhat superiour tone.  
  
"I know that you are a doctour but I assure you I know what I am doing, please lay him down."  
  
I looked at her dubiously and did as I was told. She leaned over him and kissed his forehead, murmuring words that I did not understand she placed her hands on top of the wound. Still murmuring she pressed down hard, and then slowly raised both of her hands up about an inch. I looked down and saw a bright red light coming out of Holmes' chest. I continued to watch to astonished to say anything. Then a bright white light shot out of her hands and rushed right into the red one.  
  
It seemed as though the two lights were fighting each other. After what felt like a lifetime the white light pushed through the red one and slammed into Holmes's chest. His body jerked, then he lay still.  
  
"What have you do to him?" I asked nervously, putting my hand up to his mouth to see if he was breathing.  
  
"I have healed him."  
  
I kept my hand poised over his mouth for a moment longer then quickly went to check his pulse. "No you haven't," I said sadly. "He's dead."  
  
"What? Move." Saying that she pushed me out of the way and tilted Holmes's head back. She leaned over him, opening his mouth she bent her head down and breathed into him, then she pushed down on his chest several times. She repeated these actions for several minutes while I stared at her. Finally I could take it no longer:  
  
"Stop!" I yelled. "He is dead and whatever it is that you are doing it is not helping him. Just leave him alone."  
  
"No, I will not. I know that he is not supposed to die yet and I am going to keep trying until he comes back to life." Before I could respond she started again. She murmured something and I could not tell what it was. I was about to ask her what she had said when I heard coughing. I looked down and was amazed to see Holmes alive, coughing but, alive.  
  
"Holmes!" I crawled over to him. "My god Holmes! Your alive!"  
  
"Greetings Mr. Holmes, you will be very weak for several days and your ribs will hurt even longer. I think that one or two of them might be cracked. I tried my hardest but I could not help everything."  
  
"Who- who are you?" he whispered.  
  
"My name is.Shannon.Shannon Holmes - your great granddaughter. "  
  
I know that I gave her a confused look and I think that Holmes did as well. 


	2. Getting Home

****Authour's note- Greetings, thanks for reading the first part of my story and thanks for coming to read more of it. I am a slow write due to writers block so please bear with me. And I promise that all will be explained throughout the entire story. Thanks, Shannon Holmes. P.S. No, I am not British although I spell and pronounce things like I am. **** Also, I did not notice how short this was but oh well..I am sure everyone will deal.  
  
  
  
"I am sure that both of you are more than just a little confused and I promise that I will explain everything but I think that we had better get Mr. Holmes back to your apartment first. I left the cab waiting outside the alley." She stood slightly and helped pull Holmes up gently.  
  
We got to the hansom without too much trouble, although the cabbie did give Holmes' bloodstained clothing a curious glance and soon we were rattling away, back to Baker Street. When we got there we accidentally woke up Ms. Hudson and she came out of her bedroom holding a frying pan. When she saw it was us she gasped loudly, dropped the frying pan and ran over.  
  
"Oh my goodness! Mr. Holmes what has happened?" she asked upon looking at his bloodstained clothing and haggard expression.  
  
"Nothing, Ms. Hudson, I assure you just a little accident."  
  
"You wouldn't mind bring up a cloth and some warm water? Oh, and a tub of cold water?"  
  
"Yes, of course Dr. Watson. I'll bring those things up in just a moment."  
  
"Thank you, very much Ms. Hudson."  
  
I waited until she had departed and said, "come along Ms. Holmes, right up the stairs here."  
  
"Oh, I know. There are seventeen of them too," she said, a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  
  
"How on earth do you know that?" I asked astonished.  
  
"I'll tell you when we get into the living room." 


	3. Shannon's Story

****Here we are chapter three. I am a slow writer and a juniour in high school so these little writings of mine might be spread out quite a bit. (Looks sheepish) Sorry. ****  
  
  
  
Chapter Three  
  
We had finally managed to help Holmes up the stairs and get him to sit down in a chair near the fire. As I got a blanket for Holmes from his room Ms. Holmes poured him a glass of brandy. I placed a blanket around Holmes's shoulders then went and sat down in a chair next to him and the fire.  
  
Holmes looked over at the girl who was claiming to be his great granddaughter and said, "Well, I do believe that you have some explaining to do."  
  
She bowed her head slightly in a consenting manner. "That is very true," she said.  
  
It was at this time that I took notice of what she looked like. She was wearing a plain dress of black velvet, which seemed to make her very uncomfortable as if she was not accustomed to wearing one. She looked about sixteen or seventeen, with dark black hair that came just level with her jaw and piercing grey eyes. She was very pale, very skinny and at least six feet tall. She definitely looked like a Holmes, although her nose was not as hawk like as my dear friend's. The longer I looked at her she seemed to grow more attractive. Not that she was ugly upon first looking at her; it was just that she was extraordinary in a non- extraordinary way. She seemed to stand out in one's mind quickly before fading away again.  
  
"Let me begin," she said leaning back languidly, although somewhat stiffly I noticed, and stretching her legs in front her. "By stating that my name is in fact Shannon Holmes. I am your great granddaughter, Mr. Holmes although I do believe that I have already pointed that out. My best friend, oddly enough, is one David Watson." She looked at me, "your great grandson, Dr. Watson. I now that the two of you think that I must be insane and the truth is, I thought the very same thing my self, but as my memoury started coming back over the past few days, I remembered what had happened to me."  
  
"Do you mind if I have some of that stuff?" she asked pointing to the brandy on the table across the room. "My father let me have it," she added as an afterthought.  
  
Holmes looked at me, and then back at her, "I see no reason why not."  
  
"Well." I started.  
  
She gave me a sardonic little smile and stood up and walked over to the table. I once again noticed that she was moving somewhat stiffly, but I really did not make anything of it at the time. Picking up a glass, she picked up the bottle and poured herself a generous quantity of the stuff before coming to sit back down. Taking a sip she began again.  
  
"You see, Watson.my Watson that is, and I were working on a case. It was against Moriarty. Yes, there is also a Moriarty in the future as well, how could there not be?" She shrugged, "anyway, I was close on the heels of Moriarty or so I thought. I had some information that he wanted and I would not give to him. This, of course, made him slightly angry with me. Moriarty knew that I would never give him the information but he thought that I might have told Watson. So he kid napped him. I took about three days but I finally found him. When I did, I discovered that he had been interrogated somewhat harder than I would have thought fair. As soon as I had untied her gag, she belatedly informed that it was a trap. Moriarty and several henchmen came walking through the door. After some more interrogation of the two of us Moriarty and his thugs stopped coming. I am not sure how long we were locked up but on what seemed like third of fourth day that they had not come the door opened. Through it walked a person, I am not sure whether or not he was male or female due to the fact that he was covered from head to foot in loose fitting black clothing and had his or face completely covered. He or she untied Watson and took her from the room. As he did so I heard a voice in my mind saying that she was being released and not to worry for nothing was going to happen to him. He then came back into the room several hours later. He began to say odd sounding words and when I woke up I was here. The only thing I had with me is the bag sitting over there in that corner." She pointed to a rather large bag that was sitting next to the door. "The only reason that that was with me is because I had brought it into the room with me, or at least that is the only reason that I can think of. There that is my story, believe it or not."  
  
Holmes and I both sat perfectly still, looking at her and mulling over her words. Finally, after several minutes Holmes spoke up.  
  
"Is your stiffness caused by your interrogation?"  
  
She hesitated, took a deep drink of the brandy and sighed. "Yes, yes it is. Since Moriarty knew that he could not get the information out of me he tried to get it out of Watson, by making him watch as I was.subjected to some very.unpleasant things."  
  
Holmes nodded, "I see. I for one believe you."  
  
I looked over at Holmes. I did not expect him to believe this girl. Why on earth would he. I wanted to be sure.  
  
"If you do not mind, Ms. Holmes, I would like to examine any wounds that you may have to make sure that they are not infected."  
  
She nodded and drank the rest of her brandy in one swift delicate swallow. "I am sure that that might be one of the reasons, Dr. Watson, but you and Watson.David are too much alike. You also want to verify my story."  
  
I blushed for being so easy to read and tried to act as if nothing was at all amiss.  
  
"Do not worry I do not take offense."  
  
She turned her back towards me, "would you mind undoing the clasps for me? Do not worry, I have clothing other than undergarments on underneath."  
  
I walked over and undid the clasps on the back of her dress.  
  
"Thanks," she said as she took off the dress to reveal what I would call a man's undershirt and a pair of tight black pants.  
  
"This is not what I normally wear, it was the only thing that would fit under that infernal dress. Go ahead Dr. Watson, unless blood has seeped through the shirt. I tried to clean my self up a bit but," she shrugged.  
  
I took a step closer to her and lifted the back of her shirt up. I gasped and the next instant Holmes was standing besides me. Her back looked horrible. There were slashes, cuts, welts, bruises and what appeared to burns all over her back.  
  
"Do you believe me now," she asked.  
  
"Yes," I whispered. "I apologize for not believing you."  
  
"That's ok. I am not sure that I would have believed it my self."  
  
"I can, clean these up and put dressings on them... if you want of course," I said blushing. I am after all a man and she was a teenaged girl.  
  
She turned around. "That would be really nice of you but I will not ask you to if it would make you uncomfortable. I can do it on my own, I am used to taking care of my self, but it would be much easier if you were to do it for me." She said smiling at me.  
  
"Alright then, sit on that stool over there." She did as I asked of her as I went and retrieved my medical bag.  
  
"This is going to sting a bit."  
  
She shrugged, " that's fine."  
  
As I was cleaning her wounds, it occurred to me that Holmes had not said anything for quite some time. I looked over to the chair where he had sat down to find him sleeping soundly.  
  
"Ms. Holmes, look," I said pointing at Holmes.  
  
Turning her head to look at him she said, "oh, I know. He fell asleep quite some time ago, but he does look content." She thought for a moment then a slight frown creased her face.  
  
"What is the matter?" I asked.  
  
"What? Oh, nothing. Are you almost done?" she asked, smiling sweetly.  
  
"As a matter of fact I am," I said pulling down the back of her shirt.  
  
"Thanks," she said standing up. She walked silently over to stand next to Holmes. "Wake up, Mr. Holmes, wake up," she said shaking him slightly.  
  
"What is it?" he asked waking up almost instantly.  
  
"Nothing." She smiled. "You fell asleep in your chair and I was waking you up to send you to your bed."  
  
"Oh, I was thinking about that. I wish for you to have my bed, I am more than capable of sleeping on the sofa."  
  
"Nah, don't worry about it. I'll just be going, I did not mean to take so much of you guys's time." She walked over to the door and grabbed her bag.  
  
"Nonsense," Holmes said as he jumped up and walked over to her. "You are staying here, and you are using my bed."  
  
"Since you seem so adamant, I will stay here but you get to use your own bed. I am used to sleeping on couches.sofas and it will not bother in the slightest. Now, please leave my room," she said smiling mischievously and sitting down on the sofa. 


End file.
